


I Found You (At The Bottom Of A Bottle)

by Aibohp



Series: Things Are Getting Weird [9]
Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, Ghosts, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Mabel, Mentions of Suicide, Prophetic Visions, Queer Mabel, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, angry old men intent on revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-27 04:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6269650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aibohp/pseuds/Aibohp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picks up after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6218245/chapters/14246536">Be There Or Be Square</a>.</p><p>Mabel and Pacifica deal with the repercussions of being outed on Facebook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Always on Your Side

**Author's Note:**

> Well I hope everyone remembers that i mentioned in the first installment of this clusterfuck that Mabel sees ghosts because that comes in to play here. Not really sure how Mabifica worked it's way into tall this but it's here and so we're rollin' with it!

Mabel blinked owlishly as she stared at the laptop screen. 

That was indeed a picture of her and Pacifica kissing, and someone calling them dykes. The comments were the worst part really. There was a smattering of Mabel’s friends. Wendy, Candy, a few people she knew from school, telling the OP to take the picture down. Mostly, though, it was people Pacifica went to school with, shot through with random creeps, and overzealously misguided Christians.

_”Ew I knew she was a fucking lesbo. I totally caught her checking me out in the locker room!”_

_“Why do the pretty ones always have to be carpet munchers?”_

_“I’d watch thos 2 get it on”_

_“Should’ve asked for a threesome when I was dating her”_

_“They’re so pretty! What a shame D:”_

_“This is so sad! I’m praying for these young women. Hopefully they’ll see the rror of their ways and accept the light of God into their lives!”_

_“Doesn’t matter. They’re already going to hell.”_

_“Leviticus 18:22”_

_“They probably just haven’t ever had good dick”_

_“Hope they get raped”_

_“Christ will se tyou free!”_

“Pumpkin, are you okay,” Stan asked, making Mabel look up at him. She didn’t even notice the tears streaming down her cheeks until he offered her a napkin to dab at her face with. Sniffling, she took it and wiped down her face and took a shuddering breath, trying to get feelings under control.

“Y--you j--just say the word, Mabel. I can find these m--motherfuckers in a second,” Rick said from her other shoulder, resting his hand on her shoulder. “M--Me and your Grunkle’ll go fuck shit uuup son!” 

“He’s right, Sweetie. Just say the word. GRUNKLE STAN IS READY FOR ACTION,” he shouted, digging into the pocket of his bathrobe and yanking out a pair of brass knuckles that he slipped onto his fingers eagerly. 

“I’m--I’m okay,” she said, smiling a little at how enthusiastic the two men seemed about getting revenge. Though, the comments were affecting her more then she had ever thought they would most of the people with something horrible to say were complete randos to her. What really ate at her was the fact that her coming out had been entirely taken out of her hands. “I just… This isn’t how I wanted people to find out,” she whispered softly.” Beside her, Morty shifted his chair closer and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. “I haven’t told _anyone_ yet. Not my parents, not even Dipper.” 

“Why not, Kiddo? You think they’d be against it,” Stan asked, agitated. “Because if they have a problem with it then you can tell them to come see me. I don’t care if your dad is Shermie’s kid I’ll still make him eat his teeth,” the older man bellowed, hands balled into fists by his side. 

Mabel just laughed softly and took one of his hands in her own. 

“You can’t fight everyone, Grunkle Stan,” she tutted, making the old man snort and tug his hand free so he could ruffle her hair. 

“You just watch me kid,” he insisted, making her giggle. 

“Trust me, M-Mabel. Y-your Grunkle is a ridiculous man and he will literally try and fight everyone in the world if he loves y-you,” Rick snorted good naturedly.

“Besides I-I-I don’t think Dipper is going to care that--that you’re a l-lesbian,” Morty offered. 

“Oh, I’m not a lesbian,” Mabel declared, much to the confusion of Morty and Stan. “I mean I like girls… but I like guys too? I guess I’m Bi or Pan or something,” she shrugged and looked down at her lap. “I just never really thought about putting a label to it. It’s just how I am,” she said glancing cautiously up at Stan through her hair. “A.. Are you still alright with… me?” 

It seemed like a silly question. If he’d been okay with her being a lesbian why would he care if she swung both ways? But she remembered the time her friend Iris had come to school in tears because her parents had caught her and her girlfriend kissing the night before. They’d been fine with it until she pointed out that she was bisexual. Then suddenly it was a problem and Iris was confused, or going through a phase, and being told, ‘It’s okay, Iris. You don’t have to pretend you like boys just to make us happy.

That was what she was scared of more than anything. 

Mabel’s parents had never given her a reason to assume that they wouldn’t be alright with her liking women… But she didn’t know how they’d react to her liking both men and women. She didn’t want to be told she was just confused or that she had to pick one or the other. She didn’t know what she’d do if her parents or Dipper tried to pick her apart until they were able to pick a label for her that made them comfortable rather than just accepting her as she was. The choice of telling any of them had been snatched from her, though. At any moment she was expecting her phone to start ringing. Or Dipper was about to come down stairs, demanding answers or--or--or-- 

“Breathe, Mabel,” she heard Stan say and was surprised when she looked toward the voice to see him kneeling by her chair. “Come on, kiddo. Everything’s going to be alright,” he assured, reclaiming her hand and giving it a squeeze. Now just breathe for me and listen, alright,” she nodded as she drew in a shaky breath that didn’t seem to carry near enough oxygen to her lungs. “No matter what, Mabel. I’ll always love you and I’m always going to be on your side.” 

Mabel’s lip trembled slightly, but she could finally breathe again. With a tiny, whimpery noise she leaned forward and wrapped the old man in a bone-crushing hug. Despite her best efforts, tears started to fall again. Having been alright with herself, pretty much since the moment she realized she found other girls attractive, she had never thought having the acceptance of her family members would mean so much to her. 

“Th--thank you Grunkle Stan,” she sniffled against the man’s shoulder. The old man groaned quietly as she squeezed him even tighter but didn’t try to get away from her. If his grand-niece needed a hug she was getting one. 

“Besides, you’re not the only Pines twin growing a little crooked,” he muttered vaguely, earning a snort from Rick. Mabel jerked back to look at him, eyes rabbit-pink and confused. 

“What?”

“What, what?” 

“What’s going on?”

Dippers cautiously uncertain voice had everyone twisting around to look at the young man staring at them from the doorway. The poor boy looked like as about to drop where he stood. His narrowed eyes had dark bags under them and there was the unmistakable splotch of vomit on the corner of his mouth. First hangovers were always the worst. Straightening up, Mabel wiped her eyes and slid out of her seat while Stan hauled himself up off the floor. 

“I’ll explain while I’m making breakfast. You and Morty need a Mabel’s Morning After Party breakfast. Guaranteed to cure your hangover,” she said voice peppy and bright as she started to scurry around the kitchen, dragging out pans and ingredients from the Fridge. 

Watching the whole scene suspiciously, Dipper walked further into the kitchen, dropping down by Morty and then slumping forward to let his head rest on the table. Despite how much the soft morning light drifting through the windows hurt his eyes, he didn’t close them, too interested in the way everyone was shiftily looking around, at each other, sharing glances and biting at their lips. Even Mabel seemed a little more herky-jerky with her movements as she got to work at the stove. The only person not concerned at all was Rick who was furiously typing away at Morty’s laptop. 

“So… I get there’s something I don’t know here but will you at least tell me if everything is alright? I mean did something happen to mom or dad,” he asked worriedly, looking from his sister to his Grunkle who was back to hiding behind his newspaper. Mabel hummed nervously and shook her head furiously, making the messy waves of hair shimmy against her back. “Well then what’s up?” 

“W--what’s going on is that I-I’m currently working on ruining the life of someone harassing your sister on facebook for stupid sh-shit,” Rick said, grinning maliciously as he tapped away at the keyboard. Everyone else seemed to tense, though. Stan had even lowered his paper to glare at the other man. “W-what? Oh y-you think I’m putting her on the spot? M-maybe I am but trust th-the person who has had th-this conversation with their family before. Th-The sooner she gets it over with th-the better. Either th-they take it well and you get a whole bunch of cheerleaders on your team or th-they react bad and at least y-you know so you c-can get started on finding a place to live when they kick you out.” 

“Rick, you’re not helping,” Stan sighed, glancing over at Mabel who was staring fixedly at the potato she was chopping into cubes. “Just start talking whenever you’re ready, Pumpkin.” 

“Will someone just tell me what the heck is going on,” Dipper groused in frustration, sitting up to cross his arms over his chest. If someone was bothering his sister he wanted to at least know why… and maybe get their address from Rick. “Come on, Mabes. Whatever it is, you can tell me. Is this about the thing that could be nothing but might be something,” he asked curiously, watching as his sister squirmed uncomfortably at the counter as tilted her cutting board and sent chunks of potato into her frying pan. 

“Well Dipper the thing is I’m queer as a two dollar bill andsomeonecaughtmekissingPacificalast night and put it on facebook,” she said, slurring her words together so quickly in the middle that no one could make out what she’d just said. 

Dipper’s eyes got huge for a minute, then narrowed as he tilted his head. 

“Come again, Mabel,” he pleaded, trying to work out the pile of words she’d just spat out. 

“BLARG!!! Someone snapped a pic of me and Pacifica kissing, put it on facebook, and now I have to explain to you and mom and dad and everyone that I like girls,” she barked out, staring intently at the potatos she was making. Silence befell the room, everyone waiting for Dipper’s reaction. The only sound was the tap of eggs being cracked in a cup as Mabel continued cooking, unable to stand still. As the silence wore on, though, her impatience reared it’s ugly head. “Well!? Are you going to say anything,” she asked, looking at her dumbfounded twin for scarcely a second before looking back down at the food. “Do you hate me,” she asked in the tiniest she could managed, biting down on her lip hard as she used a fork to whip through the eggs in her cup. 

“What! No! Mabel I could never-- you’re my best friend. My twin. You’re stuck with me. I’m just shocked. What with how boy crazy you used to be and all I just assumed you were straight,” Dipper yelped, jumping to his feet. Even with the killer migraine and the urge to curl into the fetal position and die under the table, he hurried over to his sister and hugged her tight. It seemed to be all she needed because after a moment she relaxed and hugged him back, wrapping her arms around his neck so tight he thought his head was going to pop off. “I do have to ask, though… why would you kiss Pacifica, of all people! She’s such a brat!” 

“She kissed me,” Mabel protested with a giggle before she shoved her brother away and turned her attention back to the stove. Using a spatula she started scrambling the eggs, while adding salt and pepper. Usually Dipper liked peppers in his eggs too but considering how sick he was probably feeling she didn’t want to push the limits of his stomach. “And she may be a brat but she’s a really cute one.” 

“Gross,” Dipper snorted, just the same as he would have if she’d been talking about a boy. The familiarity was nice. Nothing had changed between them. Everyone in the room knew now… and nothing had changed, no one cared. It was almost surreal, how so much had happened yet, everything was the same. 

“Thanks Dip,” she said quietly, offering her brother a thankful smile. 

“Any time, Mabel,” he replied, giving her a one armed hug and pecking the side of her head like their mother so often did. 

After that the tension seemed to bleed out of the room. Mabel cooked up her greasy, cheesy potatoes and eggs. Rick and Stan, much to Dipper’s chagrin, got custom orders. Rick’s got mushrooms and onions in his potatoes with peppers and ham in his eggs. Stan’s potatoes were the same, but bacon, and instead of peppers he wanted cheese and ham in his eggs. Much as Dipper had wanted to pout about it, he found himself thankful that his sister had insisted on giving him and Morty the more bland meal when the smell of cooking onions and peppers made him want to throw up. True to her word, though, by the time he finished eating his stomach had settled tremendously. 

It wasn’t until the entire family, minus Ford, who was sleeping off his latest all-nighter, were in the living room when a horrible thought wormed it’s way into Mabel’s mind. Well… It more smacked her in the forehead and it wasn’t so much a thought. The only thing she could’ve described it as was a vision. She’d been slouched on the couch between Dipper and Morty, watching some repeats of Ducktective while Stan lounged in the recliner with Rick perched on the arm of it. Then, without any sort of warning, something cold struck her right between the eyes and she wasn’t there anymore. 

_She was standing at the end of a driveway, watching as Pacifica screamed up at a pale blue house with a bottle of liquor clutched in her hand as she drunkenly swayed where she stood. The normally immaculately put-together girl looked nothing short of crazed, her short hair stuck up in places like she couldn’t stop running her fingers through it, shirt on inside out and the seat of her jean shorts covered in grass stains and dirt. Mabel’s heart clenched a little._

_“GET OUT HERE YOU FAKE ASS BITCH! I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND,” the blond screamed, hysterically, taking a swig from the nearly empty glass bottle hanging heavily from her hand. The simple motion of tilting her head back to drink sent her stumbling backward, though. Try as she might to correct herself, the only thing she really managed was falling on the grass instead of the paved walkway she was standing on. Whimpering, the girl shuddered for a moment before throwing up in the grass. Rolling away from the slick pool of vomit she ripped up a clump of dirt and threw it at the house. “I TRUSTED YOU,” she wailed, struggling to get up without letting go of her bottle._

_“Well,” A quiet little voice asked, from behind Mabel, making the girl spin around. There was a girl about her age standing behind her, dressed in nothing but her bra and panties. She dripped with water where she stood, head cocked to the side as she stared at Mabel through empty, white-blue eyes. “Are you going to do something,” she asked, motioning to Pacifica as she finally got to her feet. Mabel’s eyes were drawn to the long, deep cut that ran up the other girl’s arm, gushing pink water when her arm moved. “You should do something.”_

And then as if nothing at all had happened, she was on the couch again, staring fixedly at the TV. She almost would’ve believed she’d imagined the whole thing if not for how Morty’s hand was clamped on her shoulder, shaking her, and Dipper was on his knees, sitting in front of her with his hands on either side of her knees and watery eyes. 

“Mabel,” he called gently, though fear was laced through his voice. “Mabel are you alright?” 

“Yes,” she said, blinking rapidly. Her eyes felt itchy and dry. By her legs, Dipper let out a strangled laugh and sprang up to hug his sister, shoving her roughly into the couch. 

“Shit, Mabel W-what the fuck was--was that?! We thought you were having a seizure or something,” Exclaimed Morty as Dipper let her go, slumping into the seat next to her. 

“Your head suddenly jerked back and your whole body tensed up. You wouldn’t respond to any of us,” her twin continued, watching her warily, as if she was about to disappear. 

“No,” she blinked a couple times, rubbing her hands against the couch as if to remind herself she was still there. “No but we need to go,” she said, jumping up out of her seat with a sudden rush. She wasn’t sure what she had just seen but whatever it was, the girl had been right, she needed to do something. “We need to go find Pacifica,” she elaborated in a panic, her voice getting more high pitched as she started heading for the door. 

“What?!” Four voices chorused after her.

Not that it stopped her, or even caused her to slow down. However, when she got to her car she realized that she was still in her pajamas and didn’t have her keys. Spinning around she came face to face with Rick and the others who had followed her outside in a rush. The spindly old man slapped his hands down on her shoulders as she tried to dodge around him and run inside. 

“M-Mabel! Calm down. W-what’s going on,” he demanded. The question made her growl quietly in frustration and stomp her foot. 

“I saw Pacifica! She needs help! Now let me go get my keys!” He frowned but shook his head and reached into his robe pocket and came up with his own set of keys, clutched in his fingers. 

“Y-you don’t even know where she is, d-do you,” he asked, his answer came in the form of her angrily flushed cheeks. “D-didn’t think so. W-we’re taking my ride,” he said, pressing a button on his key fob. A couple beeps later and to Mabel’s shock, what looked like an actual flying saucer came shooting up above the trees and then gently hovered down beside them. “Y-you’ll have a better view.”

“We’re actually doing this,” Dipper called from the stairs, seeming confused and annoyed by the proceedings, probably because he had no clear grasp on what was going on.

“You th-think your sister would flip out like th-this for no reason,” Rick challenged, pressing another button to open the thing up and let his excitable passenger on board. She didn’t even pay the assortment of bottles and cans that came pouring out as she dove into the ship and got settled in the passenger’s seat. “Y-you guys can follow in the c-car,” he said as he climbed in behind the wheel of the ship. “And awwaaaaay we go,” he cried before anyone could object, zipping up into the sky and leaving the other three behind. 

“W-well shit.” Morty stuttered.


	2. What Kind of Psycho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel to the rescue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And awwaaaay we go!

Later Mabel would be way more excited about having ridden in an actual spaceship. Sure it wasn’t like a blinky, flashy, alien spaceship. But all the same it was a ship that was made and used for adventures in space. At the time, though, she was too worried about the vision or dream.. Whatever it was that had showed her Pacifica drunkenly screaming in front of her friend’s house. She _needed_ to find her before something bad happened, she could feel it in her gut. 

“D-do you have any clue wh-where to start looking,” Rick asked as they dashed over the treetops and headed toward the heart of Gravity Falls. In no time at all, they’d be hovering over the town, itself. 

“Uhm!! She--she’s in a subdivision! I saw her in front of a blue house,” Mabel said frantically as she pressed herself to the side of the ship’s glass dome, staring down at the town as they zoomed past. 

“Y-you must really like th-this chick, kid. Y-you look like you’re about to c-crawl out of your skin,” the old man muttered, leaning forward to jab a button on the dash board. “Ship, h-how many subdivisions d-does Gravity Falls have,” he asked, while Mabel mutter glared at him over her shoulder. 

“Gravity Falls has exactly one subdivision,” the electronic voice replied. 

“W-well that takes some of the fun out of th-things. Set a course for th-that shit,” Rick ordered, leaning back in his seat as the ship took over, taking a hard left and following one of the main roads leading out of the town proper. 

“Just so you know I do not like her,” Mabel insisted, forcing herself to sit down and cross her arms over her chest. “I mean she’s a complete bitch. She _always_ acts like she’s better than me and Dipper has basically called us freaks since the day she met us! She--she UUGH! She just makes me so angry,” she ranted, ending it with a tiny sigh as her slumped down in the seat. “But she just acts like that because she has shitty parents. You know they had her trained with a bell when we were, like, thirteen! What sort of fucked up shit is that?!”

Restlessly she climbed back onto her knees, watching the trees fly past until they finally gave way to network of roads. With a little jolt, Mabel started to scan the ground below, looking for a familiar blond head. Beside her, Rick took control of the wheel again, starting to sweep over the houses. 

“W-well you’re going th-through a lot of trouble for a girl you don’t like,” he pointed out, casting a skeptical glance at the young woman in the passenger seat. “And has anyone ever told you that y-you cuss a lot when your Grunkle isn’t around?” 

“It makes him sad when he hears me use adult language,” she stated simply. “And I just… I feel bad for Pacifica! I don’t want anything bad to happen to her just because her parents fucked her up! She could be a really nice person if it weren’t for them!” Mabel always did try to see the best in people. 

“Wh-whatever you say kid,” Rick said, scanning the ground below, picking out a powder blue house to their right and swerving closer to it. As they drifted nearer to the house he noticed that the neighbors lingering around their yards, while not actually gathering around the house, were paying an interesting amount of attention to it as they went about gardening, or walking their dogs. “Th-think I m-might have found your girl.” 

Sure enough, as they reached the house there was Pacifica. 

“Good going, Uncle Rick,” Mabel shouted as the old man landed his ship in the street, behind Pacifica. The glass dome surrounding them had barely been lowered when she scrambled out of the ship, rushing up to the blond just in time to grab the back of her shirt and keep her from pitching face first into the cement. Not that she seemed to notice. 

“YOU KNEW WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF MY PARENTS FOUND OUT,” she wailed, falling backward into Mabel as she forcefully straightened up and hurled the nearly empty liquor bottle at the front door where broke. “I TRUSTED YOU,” she cried with a whimper as her legs gave out under her, making her slowly slump toward the ground. Or she would have, if Mabel hadn’t wrapped her arms around the girl’s waist. 

“Come on, Pacifica,” she gently urged, making the girl roll her head to look up at her. Getting a better grip, she hauled the girl to her feet again, trying to keep her steady. “We’re going to get you home and--” 

“I can’t go hoooome,” Pacifica sniffled, knees buckling once again. This time, Mabel just helped her slowly lower herself to the ground instead of trying to keep her standing. “My Pa-parent’s wo-ooo-on’t let m-me stay unle--unless I go to the-e-erapy! But--but there’s nothing--nothing wr-wr-wrooong with me!” 

Mabel’s heart broke a little at the other girl’s words. She looked so small, sitting on the ground, her entire body jerking with the force of her sobs. Crouching down to Pacifica’s level, the brunette reached out to cup the miserable girl’s warm, tear-sticky cheeks in her hands. She wanted to comfort her, wanted to tell her that things were going to be alright, they were taking her to the Shack… but then with hardly any warning the blonde’s sobs hitched and hot, thick bile came bubbling out of her mouth. 

“Oh God,” Mabel muttered, shuddering the other girl’s vomit washed over her wrists. Letting her go, she flicked her hands away from her, trying not to act too disgusted. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Pacifica mumbled, wiping her hand across her mouth and then clumsily starting to scrub at her face. She didn’t even seem to notice as Rick strolled up behind her. 

“It’s alright, Paz. You’re just way too drunk. We’re going to take you to the Shack and you can sleep it off, okay,” Mabel said, looking up at Rick pleadingly. She was going to need help getting the girl in the ship and the older man seemed to understand because he leaned down and hooked his hands under the young woman’s arms and hauled her up. “Everything’s going to be okay,” she said to the girl as Mabel grabbed her legs to help get her into the ship. 

“This is fucking great. Not only do I get video of the _perfect_ Pacifica Northwest acting like a drunken lunatic, but now her girlfriend comes to save the day!” 

Everyone had been too distracted to notice the person Pacifica had been yelling at finally emerge from her house. Looking over her shoulder, Mabel pinned her with a glare. It was the same girl that the blonde had been dancing with the other night. She had her phone in hand, watching the screen as she recorded Rick and Mabel struggle with the inebriated girl. 

“I-I-I got this, Mabel” Rick said, getting the young woman’s attention and jerking his chin toward the bottle blonde watching them. “Go get some.” 

The malicious grin he got in return was a little disturbing on such a typically sweet girl’s face. Mabel took just enough time to gently drop Pacifica’s legs on the ground before spinning around and stomping toward the nameless young woman filming them. She’d already covered a little more than half the distance between them before the girl looked up from her phone. With a sneer, she tilted her chin up, looking down her nose at the dark haired girl. 

“Ooh what? You have something to say to me,” she snapped, placing her free hand on her hip and tilting the phone up to get Mabel’s face in the frame. “Just make sure you look at the camera when you--hey!” 

Without a word, she snatched the girl’s phone from her hand, threw it to the ground and smashed her bare heel into it. Not missing a beat, she latched onto the front of the girl’s shirt, reeling her in close. The confused and mildly disgusted look on her face melted into one of panicky fear while her hands gripped the other girl’s wrist, trying to pry her hand off of her. When Mabel leaned forward into her space, the girl flinched back, obviously expecting to be struck. 

“What sort of fucking psycho are you,” Mabel shouted, her free hand was, indeed, balled into a fist. It trembled at her side, but she didn’t hit the young woman. “Do you have any idea how you fucked up her life? Do you even care about how badly your little prank could have gone for either one of _us_?” The girl stuttered some sort of garbled response that Mabel couldn’t pick any real words out of. Tears of fear were already streaming down her cheeks. Mabel’s lip curled into an annoyed snarl. “NO! You don’t do you!? Ugh! I don’t know what Pacifica did to you but whatever it is, she didn’t deserve being outed like that! Neither did I! Ugh! People like you make me so fucking sick!” 

There was so much more Mabel wanted to say but the anger that had been fuling her speech had started to clog up her throat and choke her words before she could get them out. So with a wordless bellow of rage, she slammed her head forward, smashing her forehead into the other girl’s nose. The girl yelped in pain, hands coming up to cup her nose as she stumbled backward, trying to get away. Mabel let her go, too, watching with a sense of detachment as her foot caught the step leading up to her front door and she fell on her ass. 

She could have let the girl get up and run back inside. Instead Mabel followed her to the ground, dropping down in the girl’s lap and planting a hand on her shoulder to shove her flat on her back. Everything got a little fuzzy after that, boiling down to the feeling of the nameless girl’s hands grabbing at her arm, trying to shove her off as Mabel’s fist smashed into her face. 

To Mabel, it seemed as though just as soon as she got started, Dipper was yanking her up and away from the girl. When had he gotten there? She heard herself shriek in frustration as his arms wound around her and dragged her off her target. Watching as the bleach-blonde bitch scrambled up and ran into her house, she started to settle, finally hearing her twin’s voice. She’d distantly felt it vibrating through his chest and into her back as he was dragging her back to the car but only once the other girl was out of sight did she hear it. 

“Mabel you need to calm down!! I know she deserved it but you’re going to get arrested, attacking people like that,” he said, not letting her go until they were back at the car where Rick and Stan were waiting for them. Stan was at least trying to look stern as he stared down at her, while Rick did nothing to hide his grin. His spider-like hand landed on top of her head, rustling up her already messy hair. 

“Atta girl,” Rick praised, with a smirk. “If I-I didn’t know better I’d say that Stan was y-your grandpa instead of your Grunkle with how much like him you are. Y-you’re a real chip off the Pines block,” he laughed. 

“Pretty sure we’re not supposed to encourage this sort of thing, Rick,” Stan pointed out, even as he gave up the fight and let himself smile. The scrawny man at his side just shrugged and shoved himself off the car. 

“D-don’t act like you’re not proud,” Rick replied, heading over to his ship and climbing inside again. “M-Morty! Let’s go! You’re riding with me this time!” 

“See you guys back at the house,” Morty said as he scurried past and took his usual place in the spacecraft. As it lifted off and started back toward the shack, Stan put his hand on the Mabel’s back and ushered her toward the backseat. Dipper gave her a look but hurried to slide behind the wheel all the same. 

“Come on, kids. Let’s get going before the cops show up,” the old man said as he plopped down in the passenger seat. 

Mabel slid into the back, having to lift Pacifica’s head so she could sit down. Once she was settled, she let the girl’s head back down in her lap. Apparently they’d decided the car was the best way to get her home and privately Mabel agreed. She doubted that getting flown around in the back of Rick’s ship would’ve mixed well with the blonde’s sensitive stomach. Thankfully, she had let herself pass out. If not for the heavy smell of liquor and throw up clinging to her, she would’ve looked like a child; curled up in the back seat, asleep, with her head pillowed in Mabel’s lap. 

Looking out the window,Mabel started to run her fingers through Pacifica’s short hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't wait to see how this turns out.
> 
> Since the story seems to just be writing itself at this point with only minor direction from me.


	3. Treat Yourself Kindly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After they get home, Mabel's a little mopey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry this took so long to update and that this isn't at all what I had in mind when I started typing. So this is mostly just a cute, filler chapter.

After arriving at the shack, Mabel forced a bottle of water on Pacifica, settled the blonde in her bed, and then disappeared. The shack wasn’t huge. There were only so many places the girl could hide, and yet no matter where Dipper looked, his twin was nowhere to be found. He had checked her room, sure that she’d be keeping an eye on their newest guest. She wasn’t there. She also hadn’t been in the on the roof, down in the lab with Ford, out on the porch, or in the living room with Stan or Rick. After making a quick circuit around the surrounding woods, he was starting to get worried. 

“I’m sure that wh--where ever she is, she’s fine, Di-Dipper,” Morty said, following Dipper up stairs to the attic-room they were currently sharing. He’d doggedly followed the other boy around the entire time he frantically searched for his twin. “Maybe she just wants some time alone.” The morning had been pretty stressful. 

“I know, I know,” Dipper assured, though his voice still carried a worried note. “I wasn’t that worried until we couldn’t find her! I just wanted to make sure she was alright. She had blood on her face and she’d been hitting that girl pretty hard. I wanted to make sure her hands were okay,” he said, running his thumbs over the top of the first aid box he’d been carrying around with him the whole time. 

As they reached the top of the stairs, Dipper sighed, making a bee-line for the attic door and shoving it open. Just like in the Mystery Shack, there were two beds in the room, each tucked under the eaves of the roof. The biggest difference between the new shack and it’s predecessor was the fact that it was built with the twins in mind. And thus, instead of of a storage space hastily made into a temporary bedroom, the attic was more a room for the twins. Well, a room for whichever twin claimed it since they’d started sleeping in separate rooms during their stays with Ford and Stan. 

Dipper couldn’t rightly remember why that was. 

“I don’t think th-the blood on her face was hers,” Morty pointed out as he followed Dipper into the room. The young man went and sat on his bed, watching as the Pines twin did the same on the other side of the room. “Rick said th-that she headbutted the other girl before she did anything else.” 

“I guess,” Dipper grumbled before putting the first aid kit on the table by his bed. “Still, I want to look at her hand. Wailing on someone’s skull like that would’ve put her at risk for fractures. Especially without hand-wraps or gloves,” he insisted. “I mean I know she knows how to punch in such a way that it minimizes those risks but she probably wasn’t thinking about proper punching form at the time ya know?!” With a frustrated groan Dipper threw himself backward on the bed, and then jumped up with a shout as his bed moved underneath him. 

Terrified, he scrambled off the bed and spun around to look at his slowly squirming covers. Taking an uneasy step backward, he felt himself bump into Morty, who had shot to his feet when the other young man cried out in fear. The boys looked at each other, then back at the bed. Slowly, Dipper started to creep back toward it, feeling his friend’s hand curl into the back of his shirt, ready to pull him back. Making an effort to keep his breathing even, the young man reached out, touching just the very edge of one of the blankets that was tossed over his bed in a tangled, messy pile. He counted to three in his head before grabbing a fistfull and yanking the pile of fabric off the bed. 

What he found was Mabel looking up at him through dull, brown eyes. There was still blood on her forehead, though it had since dried. The dark smear still stood out sharply. 

“Hey Dip-dop,” she said quietly, curling up a little tighter around the pillow she had clutched to her chest. And then that was it. 

“Mabel! What the--? What are you doing in my bed,” Dipper sputtered, admittedly irritated with the situation. Really, they’d just been sitting there talking about being worried about her and she’d just stayed hidden, not saying a word. 

All he got in response was a shrug. His eye twitched slightly. 

Just as he opened his mouth to continue interrogating his twin, Morty’s hand dropped on his shoulder with enough force to make him pause. The lanky teen stepped around him, sitting on the edge of his bed. Mabel watched, but didn’t move. She just didn’t seem to care. 

“Y-you feeling okay,” he asked, scooting a little further up to the head of the bed to snag the first aid kit. The girl didn’t say anything but watched as he snapped the white, plastic box open and fished out a couple alcohol swabs. “I-it’s okay if you’re not,” he offered gently, tearing open one of the packets in his hand and then using the moist, little towelette inside to clean the blood off her forehead. 

She bit her lip while he was wiping her face off, waiting until he was done before she buried her face in the pillow and mumbled something entirely incoherent. Dipper watched as Morty, after a moment’s hesitation, balled the swab up in his hand, holding it there with his thumb as he used his fingers to push Mabel’s hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear. She didn’t pull her face out of the pillow but she did tilt her hand up toward his hand, just a little bit. Glancing back at her twin, the young man shrugged, and then slowly moved to lay down next to her.

“You want--want to try that again? Couldn’t hear you the first time,” he gently asked, as he lay, facing her. The near foot of space between them didn’t seem to detract from the intimacy of the moment as Morty rested his hand on the back of her head, gently rubbing little circles into her scalp. 

“I said that I don’t know,” Mabel said into the pillow. It was still muffled but at least loud enough that they could hear her. Slowly, she lifted her head up enough to peek up over the lumps of the pillow. Her eyes were red-rimmed and a little wet. “I just… Don’t know,” she mumbled. 

It made Dipper’s heart clench. Without a word, he too crawled into the bed, navigating his way over the two bodies already there and sitting down behind his sister. He’d positioned himself at the head of the bed, legs stretched out and pressing against Mabel’s back. Bending his leg, he gently pressed his knee into the space at the right of her spine. 

“I’m sorry I snapped, Mabel. Maybe if you talk to us, you’ll feel better,” he gently offered. For a moment, he worried that he’d said the wrong thing because she simply lay there, still and quiet. 

Dipper didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she moved, rolling over onto her back. She brought the pillow with her, hugging it to her chest. For a moment her eyes just roamed over the ceiling, tracing constellations that she and Dipper had carefully painted there years ago. When the sun went down they would glow brightly against the blue-black background. There had been many nights when both the twins would wake up with nightmares about Bill and the Weirdmageddon staining the backs of their eyelids. After which, they would find each other’s beds and trace read the lines between the stars until they fell asleep again. 

“Why do people have to be so horrible,” Mabel finally asked, her voice getting a little wavery toward the end. Her chin trembled slightly. “I just.. I don’t understand. Yeah, Pacifica can be selfish and bratty and mean… But I would never have done something like outing her on facebook like that! Especially if I knew what would happen to her if her parents found out! Knowing them, I doubt that ‘therapy’ meant gong and talking to someone for an hour a week about how gay you are.” The girl sniffled, tears starting to leak from the corners of her eyes. Silently, Dipper pried his sister’s hand off the pillow and held it, careful of her bruised knuckles. “I feel like I should be happy because she’s here and she’s safe. I should be happy that I’ll never have to worry about having nowhere to go, because even if mom and dad were the sort of people to try and send me to therapy or a conversion camp I could always come here. But mostly I just feel sad and angry.” 

On the other side of her, Morty scooted closer, carefully pulling the pillow away entirely and wrapping an arm around her waist. She latched onto it instantly, her hand squeezing his arm tightly. The tears started flowing steadily and every now and then her chest would jolt as her breath hitched on quiet little gasps.

“And--and then there’s Pacifica! I don’t--I don’t know what to do about--about her! It isn’t like she’s my girlfriend. We just kissed one--once at that rave!! I mean I care about her but--but I don’t know what to do,” Mabel whimpered. Beside her, Morty made a quiet shushing noise as she gave up on speaking and just let herself cry. It was nothing like the violent sobs that had shaken Pacifica earlier. Mabel’s crying was something painfully sad in it’s quietness. 

“People are just sh-shitty, Mabel,” Morty said quietly, scooting close enough that his front was pressed into her side and he could nudge his forehead against the side of her skull. “People are cruel, and selfish, and mean. They--They don’t care about other people,” he continued, making Dipper wonder where he was going because so far everything he said sounded more depressing. “Th-there’s nothing you can do about it. People like y-you are unique and amazing because they’re so few of you.” That made Mabel squirm and lean away from Morty a little so she could look at him, confused. With a small smile he propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her. “D-don’t worry about why people are horrible or about w-what’s going on with you and Pacifica. Th-that’ll work out one way or the other. Just--Just take care of y-yourself and treat yourself kindly. Th-that way you can keep b-being one of the things that makes the universe amazing beautiful.” 

Both the pines twins stared at Morty as he stopped speaking, long enough for him to awkwardly hunch his shoulders and glance away. With a little smile, Mabel reached up and put her hand on the young man’s cheek, making him look back at her, face red. 

“That is the most i’ve ever heard you say. Who knew you’d be so good at this comforting people thing,” she said leaning up to peck the boy on the cheek, making him blush for an entirely different reason. “Is it something that runs in your family? Because Rick is pretty good at it too.” 

Behind her, Dipper wrinkled his nose at the display of affection. 

“Summer and my mom always end up talking to me when they’re depressed,” Morty admitted with a snort. Sometimes even Jerry would start trying to talk to him but, out of the three of them, he put most of his efforts into being a shoulder for Summer to cry on. He’d gotten pretty good at saying the right things to get them feeling better. “I don’t know how Rick is good at it. Usually he’s such an ass. But-but when it counts I guess he pulls through.” 

“So, Mabel. You feel any better,” Dipper asked with a little smile that only grew as his sister nodded. Letting go of his hand she reached up to scrub her palms over her face. 

“Yeah… I do,” she murmured, smiling up at the two looking down at her. “At least a little bit.” 

“You w-want to come downstairs and watch TV with us,” Morty prodded hopefully. Much to his dismay, Mabel just shook her head and hugged the pillow against herself again. 

“No. I think I just want to stay here for a little while. Maybe take a nap,” she replied, tucking her face behind the pillow again, a little unsure and not wanting to offend either boy by denying their invitation. But downstairs, with Stan, Rick, and everyone would just be too loud, too busy, too much. 

“Oh,” Dipper said, frowning a little in disappointment. “Well… Is it okay if we stay up here with you? We can watch _'Jem and the Holograms'_ , or any of the other weird 80’s cartoons you like so much,” he teased, laughing as his twin stuck her tongue out at him. 

“I guess that’d be alright,” she admitted quietly. 

With her acceptance, the boys looked at each other and then sprang into action. 

Morty rolled off the bed first, darting across the room and Dipper followed, grabbing his laptop and the portable projector to hook up to it. The other boy hustled back across the room, carrying all the pillows and blankets from his bed to dump on Mabel, who squealed and laughed as she was buried. Rolling herself up in the blanket that had landed on top of her, she sat up to watch as her brother and friend pinned a sheet up on the wall across from the foot of the bed. Between the two of them they had had the laptop, projector and a makeshift screen set up in no time at all. 

It was a tight fit when they all wound up back in the bed but in that moment, sandwiched between the two boys, Mabel couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pacifica will make emerge from Mabel's bed in the next one, promise.


	4. First Star I See Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel shows Pacifica the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed this the last chapter for this work. Don't worry!!! There will definitely be more happening with Mabel and Pacifica! I just felt like this was a good place to end this particular part of their story.

Pacifica bit at the skin surrounding her thumbnail as she listened to the quietness of the shack. A lot of the early day was a little bit of a blur. Waking up, her parents confronting her about that stupid picture, telling her she couldn’t stay unless they let them send her off for ‘therapy’. She could remember leaving, remembered going off and finding Robbie to buy her a bottle of whiskey… That was where things really started to get kind of fuzzy. Going to Camille’s house, screaming at her from the driveway, throwing up on Mabel, watching Mabel beat up Camille, Mabel’s hands in her hair. _Mabel, Mabel, Mabel._ The electric blue pillows smelled like her. 

Ever since Pacifica woke up in _her_ bed, later that evening, she had been listening to everyone in the house moving around, talking to each other, watching TV. Occasionally someone would peek into the room and she’d pretend to still be sleeping. She didn’t want to face them yet. Now, though, the only sound was the quiet murmur of the TV. No more chatter, no more clattering of dishes, nothing. Oh so slowly, the blond crawled out of bed and cracked open the door leading out into the hall. There were star-shaped night-lights plugged into the outlets along the floor, lighting the hall from one end to end. At either one there was a set of stairs, one going up and the other going down.

With mouse-like care she crept out of Mabel’s room and made for the stairs. Despite her best efforts there were little creaks and groans from the stairs below her feet, each one making her flinch. She didn’t let herself relax until she’d gotten on the stairs. Thankfully, through a little aimless groping, Pacifica found a light switch, because the stairs were entirely dark. As a bare, yellow bulb flicked on over head she started down the stairs, ignoring the picture frames on either side of her that depicted a happy, loving family.

The stairs ended in another hallway. Light from the stairs reached about halfway down the corridor, until it faded into nothing. She didn’t bother with trying to find a light this time, simply marched through the dark until she was at the entrance to the living room. Through the empty doorway she could see into the room with all it’s lived-in splendor. 

In her own home everything had always looked like it was barely touched. Open, immaculate spaces that carried a feeling of coldness. Even though they were no longer living in the Northwest mansion, the trend carried on. The room she looked into now was worn in, and loved, given a sense of comfort by how comfortable people were inside it. There was a coat draped over the back of an arm chair, bookshelves filled with both books and bric-a-brac, all of which carried some measure of dust. What really caught her eye, though, was the couch and the girl that lay upon it. 

Mabel was lit up by the dim flicker of the TV, stretched out across the couch cushions with her face buried in a pale, pink pillow. One of her legs had dropped off the side of the couch, nearly falling into a half-finished bowl of popcorn. Her hair was tangled into a messy brown halo around her head. Without her permission, Pacifica felt her lips twitch into a little smile. 

_Cute_.

Unable to resist the urge, the blonde slipped into the room on silent feet, and went to crouch in front of the couch. In the back of her mind, she thought that it was probably creepy to be watching the other girl sleep, but she couldn’t help herself. Mabel had her arms wound around her pillow. One of her hands peeked out from under it, the bruising across her knuckles dark, even in the dim light. 

Pacifica felt her insides squirm uncomfortably. 

Mabel had hurt herself, hitting Camille. 

She’d hit Camille because she was angry. 

She was angry because Camille hurt _Pacifica…_

And what had she ever done to deserve having someone care if she was hurt? Especially if that someone was Mabel Pines. For the past three years she’d been nothing but rude, sometimes outright mean, not only to her but to her family. Yet she still cared about _her_ for some reason. Pacifica didn’t feel like she deserved that. 

“Pacifica, are you alright,” Mabel suddenly asked, making the other girl yelp and fall backward onto her ass. 

“I um… I…” the blonde stuttered, trying to think of something to say. Some sort of excuse for watching Mabel sleep like a creep. 

“You must feel like shit,” the brunette yawned. With a little hum she arched her back and squirmed on the couch before sitting up with, what looked like, a great deal of effort. “Hmmm Stay right there I’ll get you something to drink.” Another yawn as she got to her feet and wandered toward the kitchen. 

She came back with a bottle of some brightly colored sports drink. 

“Thank you,” Pacifica mustered as she took the bottle. She still hadn’t moved from the floor. 

“You’re welcome!” Mabel smiled brightly as she dropped back down on the couch. “I didn’t know what flavor you’d like, but Rick said you were probably suffering from some mild alcohol poisoning earlier. Suggested these might make you feel better when you woke up. Heh kinda had me worried there with how long you’d been asleep,” the girl admitted, still smiling down at the young woman on the floor. She just stared up at Mabel, speechless. “Pacifica?” 

“Why do you care so much about me,” she blurted, looking a little startled before she continued. “What have I ever done to make you want to give a shit about me?” Before Mabel could answer, Pacifica kept going. It seemed as though actually getting her mouth to work was enough to let open the floodgates. “I’m… I’ve been nothing but bitch to you for years! I’m a horrible person! And yet here you are! Rescuing me from my own drunken stupidity, beating people up for me, taking care of me! I.. I don’t deserve any of that!” The blonde looked away, unable to meet her eyes. 

Mabel frowned at the girl. Even if she had a few points, it made her uncomfortable to hear the youngest Northwest talk so badly about herself. She was convinced there was a good person under the snobbish, rude shell that Pacifica wore to protect herself. 

“Well… You’re not wrong? I mean you can be a first class bitch,” Mabel said truthfully, even as it made the other girl curl in on herself a little. “But that doesn’t mean you deserve to get outed on Facebook and… I don’t know you’re mean but I think it’s just a front.” Then it was her turn to look away, a little color rising in her already pink cheeks as she spoke. “I bet you could be really nice if you didn’t feel like you needed to be perfect all the time.”

Pacifica couldn’t help staring up at the girl after that, mouth opening and closing. She wanted to tell her that she was wrong, to try and convince Mabel that she really was just a horrible person. It was just so impossible for her to even consider that there was anything good about her to care about. 

Taking a quick peek at her, to see how her message had been received. After seeing the look of panic and frustration all over Pacifica’s face, she frowned. To her it was obvious that just about everyone deserved to be cared about. Though she could think of a few that didn’t. As she watched the muscle in the blond’s jaw jump as she clenched her teeth, Mabel game to a quick decision and sprang to her feet.

“Come with me,” a moment of hesitation, a suspicious look met with one of Mabel’s infectious smiles. “Come on, Paz! I can almost guarantee that what I’m about to show you will make you feel better,” she insisted, holding her hand out to the other girl. When she felt Pacifica’s long, thin fingers slip into her own, more square-ish palm her smile seemed to grow impossibly wider. 

Pacifica found herself helpless to do anything but follow Mabel as the girl pulled her to her feet and started retracing the blond’s path, back to the room she’d come from. While they did so with far less care than she had the first time, one seemed to take notice. There was a brief stop in Mabel’s room where she left the blonde at the door. She was like a whirlwind, throwing the top dresser in her chest of drawers and throwing two sweaters onto her bed, then digging deeper and shoving something in her pocket that Pacifica couldn’t make out in the low light. 

Giggling, Mabel scooped up the sweaters and shoved one into Pacfica’s arms as she breezed past, leading the way even while tugging on her own pull-over. When the other girl didn’t immediately follow, she turned back to take hold of her hand again. They walked to the end of the hall, followed the stairs up and then, once in the attic, over to a ladder that was leaning up against the wall in a dark corner. 

“Just stick with me a little longer,” Mabel said as she started up the ladder. With her blue-black sweater it was nearly impossible to see her, at least until the thing suddenly lit up. Over her left breast was a crescent moon, glowing white and surrounded by stars. “I promise it’s worth it.” 

Taking the brunette’s word for it, she started up the ladder after her. There was an uncomfortably loud screech as Mabel shoved up on a hatch leading up and out onto the roof. She waited at the edge of it the opening, taking hold of Pacifica’s hand as soon as it was available to her. Careful steps across the slanted roof led the way to an intentionally flat area. With the pair of chairs set up and the cooler between them, it looked almost like a little deck. 

“Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford claim all of this is just to make it easier to clean snow and leaves off the roof and stuff. But I think that he just knew that they wouldn’t be able to keep us off the roof so they made sure there was somewhere relatively safe for us to sit,” Mabel giggled, plopping down in one of the lawn chairs and dragging the cooler over, in front of herself. 

Hunching over it, she pulled out what she’d shoved into the pocket of her pajama pants. _Papers, weed, grinder, lighter_. Pacifica couldn’t say she was entirely surprised. Not after having met Mabel at a rave the other night. 

“Oooh, Mabel Pines, you naughty girl,” she teased, making the other girl giggle brightly. With a small smile, Pacifica tugged on the sweater she’d been given. It was purple with a pair of yellow cat eyes embossed across the front and happened to be incredibly warm. She wondered if it lit up like mabel’s did. 

By the time she popped her head out of the top, Mabel was well on her way to having the joint she was rolling finished. Nimble fingers pinched and rolled the strip of paper between her fingers until it was a nearly perfect little stick. After licking it closed she flicked the lighter, quickly passing the joint through the flame. Giving it a few more experimental pinches to make sure that the thing wasn’t about to fall apart, she grinned. 

“Is this what you wanted to show me? Your impeccable bone-rolling skills,” Pacifica asked with a snort. Mabel rolled her eyes but was still smiling. With the lighter she lit one end of the joint and then brought it to her lips, inhaling and making the cherry at the end flare. 

As she passed it over the lights on her sweater went out. Still, with the full moon shining on them, it was easy to see the smoke billow from Mabel's mouth as she opened it to speak. 

“No-oo-oo,” she coughed, leaving herself red faced as she grinned at Pacifica. “I wanted to show you all this,” the girl explained, motioning to the sky above them and then tilting her head back as she hit the joint again before passing it to the blonde, starting the rotation. _Puff, puff, pass_.

“The sky,” Pacifica asked skeptically, rolling her eyes up to glance up above them. 

“The stars,” Mabel corrected in a slightly smoke husked voice as she scooted her chair closer to the other girl. “Just look at them,” she said, peering at Pacifica and snorting when she saw the girl just rolling her eyes up to look. “Nooo really look, she said, reaching over to put her hand on the girl’s head and tilt it backward. 

Above them, their view framed by the tops of pine trees, was the endless expanse of the night sky, littered with stars. The sight was admittedly beautiful, like millions of diamond pins holding up a sheet of velvet over their heads. Still, Pacfica wasn’t sure how it was supposed to make her feel better. Extending her hand toward Mabel, she felt their fingers brush as she passed the joint. 

“What is with you and the stars? Has it got to do with your brother’s forehead thing,” she asked, letting her eyes drift from one distant, glowing ball of gas to the next. “What difference are the stars going to make in my current situation? How is this meant to make me feel better?” Mabel hummed in response, blowing smoke through her nose as she let herself melt back into her seat, face upturned. Another pass, another brush of fingers. 

“We all have a star thing, not just Dipper. Mine’s the Pegasus,” Mabel hummed in response, blowing smoke through her nose as she let herself melt back into her seat, face upturned. Another pass, another brush of fingers. “That one’s riiiight there! See it,” she asked, leaning in close to the blonde and pointing toward her constellation. 

Pacifica shook her head a little, feeling her cheek brush against Mabel’s. 

“N-no,” she said, holding her breath until the brunette settled back in her own seat. She wasn’t sure if it was Mabel or the weed but the longer she stared up at the sky, the more she felt as though she was falling into the spaces between the stars. “How is this supposed to help me again,” she asked quietly. 

Mabel shrugged and laid one hand on her stomach, idly tracing the constellation that was mapped out on her left side. As a child the stars were always a big deal to her and her family because of the strange birthmarks they all seemed to share. _Hers, Pegasus. Dipper’s, Ursa Major. Dad’s, Canis Major. Grunkle Stan, Taurus. Grunkle Ford, Leo Major._ When they were kids she, Dipper, and their father would go lay in the grass in their backyard and he’d show them their constellations, teach them to read the stars like his father did. His father, who was taught to read the stars by his brother, Stanford. She just wanted to share a little of the happiness she associated with those memories with Pacifica but didn’t know how to explain herself. 

“I guess it won’t, not really. In the morning we’re still going to have to deal with the fact that you’re effectively homeless, that your parents are horrible, that everyone you know now knows you’re into women. The stars can’t make any of that go away. But they’re a beautiful thing to lose yourself in for a little while, don’t you think,” she offered weakly, biting her lip as she looked up at the stars, feeling a little like she failed in her attempts to make the blonde feel better. 

Beside her, Pacifica wasn’t looking to the sky, but at Mabel, eyes a little wet as the girl spoke. She was right. She would have to deal with everything that happened when the sun came up. Nothing could change what had already happened, not even the stars. But they were beautiful, and sitting on the roof with Mabel had left her feeling a little lighter. Be it because of the company or the drugs, she wasn’t sure. It was nice, though, and Pacifica thought that maybe letting herself get a little lost in it all wouldn’t be so bad. She turned her head toward the stars just in time to see a meteor streak across the sky, and she couldn’t help but laugh softly. 

“A shooting star. Think I should make a wish,” she asked, teasingly. Though her tone carried a friendly note rather than a cruel one. This time when she passed the joint, she felt it plucked from between her fingers, but before she could pull her hand back, Mabel’s fingers shyly wormed between hers. 

“My dad says that shooting stars can’t really grant wishes. They just shower the world with hope,” the dark haired girl said, watching as the meteor’s light die out as quickly as it came. 

As Pacifica let her gaze fall once more on the girl next to her, she thought that maybe what Mabel’s father said was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit about Stan, Ford, Dipper, and Mabel all having their very own constellations on them is based on [this headcannon](http://rngrn.tumblr.com/post/129797520759). I really hope they don't mind. :x You should check out their art. It's amazing.

**Author's Note:**

> back at it again with the multiple chapters.
> 
> maybe I'll be able to pace myself when it comes to uploading chapters this time.


End file.
